


of schnapps and go-go dancers

by checkmateslash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Student!Lance, bartender!keith, i reference memes too much, i use the phrase 'and well' a lot i'm sorry, lesbian!pidge, my tags are my thought trashcan, poly shiro/matt/allura bc i'm trash for them, sort of? lance and pidge are still in school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmateslash/pseuds/checkmateslash
Summary: Keith works at a gay club, Lance and his roommate Pidge frequent... until they don't anymore.The first few times he caught Keith watching him he just waved and continued dancing without paying Keith much mind. But after the fourth or fifth time, Lance kept eye contact with him as he bopped and swiveled his hips. That was the moment that Keith realized he might be falling for one of his customers, with Lance dancing just for him and Keith blatantly staring with the rag stopped mid-swipe over the counter, leaning on his elbow to watch.“You gonna dance with him?” Rolo asked from where he was lazing by the door, watching people walk to and from the patio. Keith snorted, pulling his eyes away.“No. I’m working.” He began to wipe down the counter again, eyes flickering up to watch when Lance turned back to the dance floor.





	of schnapps and go-go dancers

**Author's Note:**

> are you ever proud of a fic but also super ready to get it out of your face? me too.

Keith started working at  _ ALTEA _ nightclub two years ago, when he’d finally turned twenty-one years old, fresh out of college with a degree in Useless™ and in no financial position to go looking for work elsewhere. Shiro had taken him out for his birthday, able to get himself and Keith in for free because he knew the owner, and with a rather embarrassing but good-feeling happy birthday song from almost every drunk person in that section of the club. Keith had been mad about it at first, until all at once three guys and two girls were flocking towards him to offer him free birthday shots on them. It was at that moment he realized Shiro was sort of a genius - an underrated one, but Keith supposed that might have been a given, considering Shiro was working on getting his degree in psychology.

 

It had dawned on Keith very late, because he was very busy drinking and dancing and was not entirely concerned with watching everyone else, that he was in a gay club, and it had only dawned on him until a gay couple had started to make out right next to him. He’d scooted over slightly to give them space because they were obviously having a moment, and as he did he saw a lesbian couple doing the same. He finally noticed the rainbow paraphernalia plastered all over the bar, and he stared at the flag, wondering why it had taken him two plus hours to notice it because usually he was more observant (he blames being caught up in the birthday whirlwind) and he took one look at Shiro, who was dancing with a pretty girl with silver boxer braids, and asked; 

 

“You brought me to a gay club?” 

 

Shiro looked at him like he’d grown two heads, one of his eyebrows going up. “Why would I take you anywhere else?” 

 

And well, that was a fair question, considering Shiro had had his fair share of different gendered dates and Keith had come out to him at age sixteen. Keith doesn’t know why they would go anywhere else, either. He’d just always envisioned clubs as a Straight People Thing. 

 

It was while he was tucking a dollar bill into a female go-go dancer’s thigh-highs that he was propositioned for a job as a dancer, and Keith didn’t know how he felt about that. 

 

“Our boss has been watching you move all night.” She’d told him, her big frizzy afro tickling his face as she leaned in close so that he could hear her. “I think he’s taken a liking to you.” Keith  _ had  _ noticed a lot of people watching him, but he couldn’t have guessed that any of them were pondering the thought of hiring him as a go-go dancer. His dance degree was worth something, if not a job. He wasn’t getting any other jobs elsewhere. 

 

“I don’t know…” Still, if he was uncomfortable with a job what was the point? Was he going to be a go-go dancer for forever? Probably not. 

 

He’d almost had an aneurysm when the dancer pulled him up onto the platform and encouraged him to move. A couple of people that were standing by started to cheer him on, and he moved hesitantly for a few beats before he started to get more comfortable. She didn’t make any move to leave him alone, dancing alongside him and going so far as to tug at his shirt. A girl with a flowered graduation cap on her head whooped and slipped a few dollars into the waistband of his jeans. 

 

The job gave him an ego boost, if nothing else, for six months. But it was all over when he broke his ankle during a birthday party for one of his fellow go-go dancers. He was a little stung that he’d gotten replaced so fast, but while sitting dejected in the corner with his cast and brace on his ankle the bar manager had tsked at him. It had been a slow night - Mondays always were. Only two of their dancer floors were open and three of their nine bars, and Keith had come to pick up what he’d thought was his final paycheck but he’d gotten caught up in self-pity and had lingered by the bar for two hours at the thought of having to go back to job searching.

 

Needless to say, Coran asking him if he wanted to learn how to bartend had been a godsend.

 

So,  _ ALTEA _ Nightclub had him employed for two years full of off-and-on relationships and gay drama and the occasional clueless person who wandered up to his place at the bar and quietly asked if they were in a gay club. 

 

It was a little monotonous, but any job was, and Keith was as happy there as he was probably going to be anywhere else.

 

On his twenty-third birthday he met Lance. He wasn’t even supposed to be working that night, but his coworker Kimberlyn had called in sick and it was a  _ Saturday Night.  _ There was no way they were going to be able to function without a bartender, and Coran had promised him that he would give Keith off the entirety of next weekend off even if he had to work it himself. Keith insisted it was fine, he was probably just going to stay in and watch movies anyways, but Coran had been adamant. 

 

And that’s how he found himself working in the Latin room with a glittery tiara on his head that said  _ Birthday Princess _ and a plethora of tips in his pocket. Keith was busy working around a go-go dancer that was on the bar when Lance made himself comfortable, elbows planted on the bar and grin wide on his face. He was sweaty so he must have been dancing. He looked cute anyways. 

 

“Happy Birthday!” He shouted over the music so that Keith could hear, and Keith smiled at him, yelling back a  _ thanks _ as he poured three different types of alcohol into the empty glass in front of him before sliding it over to the girl waiting and accepting the money she gave him. She grabbed the drink and told him to keep the change before wandering off to go find her friends, leaving Keith and Lance alone. Relatively. The go-go dancer was still twerking and bopping away in Keith’s peripheral, there were about four other people that had wandered over within the time it had taken Keith to finish the drink. 

 

“What can I get for you?” He asked, and Lance chewed at his lip thoughtfully. 

 

“Buttery nipple! Two please.” He decided on, and Keith hummed. 

 

“Shots or drink?” He questioned as he fished out the liqueur and Irish cream. 

 

“Shots, please.” It was stupid of Keith to think Lance was cute because he was saying please, but drunk people had a tendency to demand with no manners rather than ask. Keith decided he spent too much time around drunk people. Keith set two chilled shot glasses on the counter - if it were slow he would’ve taken the time to layer the shots properly but there wasn’t time for that, the Irish cream and schnapps tumbling into the glasses without a care. 

 

“8 bucks.” Keith told him, and Lance passed over a ten dollar bill, grabbing one of the shots and setting it in front of Keith before he had a chance to turn around and put the ten dollars in the register. 

 

“For your birthday!” Lance insisted, and Keith felt a flush rise up his neck to his cheeks. He grabbed the glass and tapped it against Lance’s, tapping it on the bar before throwing it back. It was sweet - way sweeter than the drinks he usually ordered, but still delicious. 

 

“On the house, then.” He insisted, placing the bill back on the counter in front of Lance, who smiled and shook his head. 

 

“Then keep it for a tip.” And then he was wandering back into the crowd, leaving Keith to attend to the other people at the bar already grabbing for his attention.

 

Keith wasn’t entirely sure if Lance had been to  _ ALTEA _ Nightclub before that, but after his birthday he definitely started to recognize Lance as a frequent. He was loud and enthusiastic and was quick to make friends with almost all of the go-go dancers, bobbing enthusiastically to the remixed pop music. It became apparent right away that Keith wasn't the only one who noticed Lance’s presence, because every time Keith got a break to look at the dance floor Lance was always dancing with someone, and if he wasn't there were about ten pairs of thirsty eyes watching him. At one point Keith remembered seeing Lance sandwiched between two men and a third lurking right in the wings, but Lance was hardly dancing or responding and Keith called over one of the security guards, Rolo, to point him out. Once Rolo stepped onto the dance floor the guys dispersed, and Rolo escorted a dazed and confused looking Lance off of the dance floor and to Keith’s bar, where Keith poured him some water and gave him a seat. 

 

“Thanks, I don't-...” Lance seemed confused mostly, but grateful also, so Keith guessed his instincts were right. It wasn't hard to tell if Lance wasn't into someone after watching him for a few weeks; he was particularly handsy, and with those 3 guys he hadn't been. At all. 

 

“No worries. You looked kind of out of it.” Lance  _ still  _ seemed out of as he sipped his water, solemn and like his mind was somewhere else. “Where’s your small friend?” Keith asked. 

 

“Pidge? I… don't know. I lost her in the crowd a while ago. She’s probably dancing with someone.” It was hard to hear him over the music. “I’m Lance, by the way.” He held a hand out for Keith, and Keith set down the rag he’d been using to wipe down the counter so he could shake it. 

 

“Keith.” 

 

Lance was quiet, sipping at his water and not voicing if he wanted more once it was gone, but Keith refilled his glass anyways and Lance continued to drink. 

 

Pidge came back with a pretty dark haired girl with square hips and a long see-through dress, who was hanging off of her arm and chewing at her lip. Her lipstick was smeared. Some of it was on Pidge. 

 

“Hey, are you ready to go?” She asked. Lance nodded his head, pushing himself from the barstool and turning to smile at Keith. 

 

“See you, Keith.” And then he was wandering out of the club, Pidge following after him with the pretty girl in tow and throwing an inquisitive look at Keith over her shoulder. 

 

If nothing else Lance was fun to watch, because he was carefree in everything he did and his flirtation and intention were always written right on his face. It was also very apparent when he had one too many drinks, hands all over anyone he found attractive and Pidge pulling him away while giving the person an apologetic look. Sometimes Pidge wouldn’t catch it though, and one moment Lance is twirling Pidge under his arm and the second she turns around to dance with a pretty girl Lance is on the next person that pursues him. Keith thought it was funny as he watched Lance make-out with one of his go-go dancer coworkers, and then thought it was kind of gross because he could see their tongues and that was a little too much information. Still, Keith couldn’t look away, distracted so much that the girl that was trying to get his attention turned to the other bartender working with him. 

 

Some might have called Lance easy but Keith only knew him as popular. Every time Lance left it was with his friend Pidge, the same lesbian friend he always walked in with. Men and women alike flocked to him, and it was very obvious that Lance liked to be liked, and he danced and groped and then fled like Cinderella at midnight when he got bored or uncomfortable. The first few times he caught Keith watching him he just waved and continued dancing without paying Keith much mind. But after the fourth or fifth time, Lance kept eye contact with him as he bopped and swiveled his hips. That was the moment that Keith realized he might be falling for one of his customers, with Lance dancing just for him and Keith blatantly staring with the rag stopped mid-swipe over the counter, leaning on his elbow to watch. 

 

“You gonna dance with him?” Rolo asked from where he was lazing by the door, watching people walk to and from the patio. Keith snorted, pulling his eyes away.

 

“No. I’m working.” He began to wipe down the counter again, eyes flickering up to watch when Lance turned back to the dance floor. 

 

The thing about having Lance’s attention was that it was always temporary. No matter who he was talking to, no matter who he was dancing with, he was always gone within a matter of five minutes. Keith found his jealousy wasteful when he wandered upstairs where they kept the private booths and saw Lance in a dark corner giving a lapdance to a man whose face Keith couldn't see. He watched, nosy, as he grabbed a few bottles of liqueur from the stock under the bar, almost dropping one of the bottles when Lance turned to grind ass to crotch, eyes meeting Keith’s wide like a deer caught in headlights. He averted his eyes from Keith’s instantly, and Keith carefully juggled the bottles in his arms, scrambling away back down to the first floor so that he could get back to his bar. It was approximately five minutes later when Lance appeared at Keith’s bar downstairs, hickey on his neck and drink in his hand as he sat on the bar stool directly in front of where Keith was wiping down glasses. 

 

“So, Keith,” Lance started, “Plaxum was telling me that you used to be a go-go dancer.” No one could pronounce Plaxum’s name correctly, so that’s just what they called her. It was an inside joke that Keith was too late to get the whole story to. 

 

“Yeah. A while ago.” Keith set the glass he was wiping down away, picking up another. 

 

“Why aren’t you anymore?” Lance took a sip from the straw in his drink. Keith could see the man Lance had been giving a lap dance come down the staircase; when he saw Lance his gaze lingered, visibly debating on pursuing him, and then got sidetracked by someone who must’ve been a friend of his.

 

Keith shrugged his shoulders. “I think bartending is more of my speed.” Keith definitely was happier as a bartender, even if his dance degree was going without use. Lance tapped his long, slender fingers on the counter, lips pursed. 

 

“I’d love to see you dance.” Lance stated after another beat of silence between them. Keith felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips, but when he glanced up at Lance he seemed sincere. “Like, honestly. I bet you would get double the tips than any of the other dancers out there.” He rested his elbows on the counter, leaning over his arms in interest. 

 

“Baseless flattery.” Keith rolled his eyes, and Lance smiled even though he didn’t deny it. “You can always make up for the tips I’m not getting from dancing, if you want.” Lance snorted, full chested and followed by warm laughter. “Anyways, you seem to like the other dancers just fine.” Even if Keith hadn’t seen Lance make out with the go-go dancers on multiple occasions, he still would’ve heard about it. At least three of his coworkers had legitimate crushes on Lance, and the rest wouldn’t object to getting a piece of him either. Keith wasn’t sure which he was. He just knew he had a penchant for liking the kind of people he couldn’t have. 

 

“Oh? Do you watch me?” Lance  _ knew  _ the answer to that question, because he’d caught Keith staring multiple times, one of them being just around ten minutes ago. Still, Keith shrugged again, unwilling to admit it even though both of them knew it was true. 

 

“You’re popular,” is what he said instead. Lance hummed, toying with the straw in his empty drink. Keith set his rag down and began to mix something for him. When he set the blue drink in front of Lance he flushed, pulling it towards him and taking a sip of it hesitantly, and then began to suck thirstily at the straw. 

 

“Do you ever come here just to hang out?” Lance still had the straw in his mouth as he spoke. 

 

“Tuesday’s are karaoke and there’s country line dancing before 10 on Saturdays.” Keith usually had Tuesday’s off and he started working at 10 on Saturday’s. Tuesday’s didn’t happen as often, since he had to go out of his way to get to work. 

 

“If I wanted to line dance I would go to  _ Rocky’s Rockin’ Rodeo _ .” Lance rolled his eyes, visibly annoyed just by the thought. “I don’t need to know more than the Electric Slide and Cha-Cha Slide.” Keith hummed, stepping away from Lance when a pair of girls came over to order something, getting visibly excited when they asked him what his favorite drink was. He poured their drinks, and poured himself one because Lance was still sitting there and it was beginning to make him anxious, and then put their tip for him in his pocket as they walked away with a thank you.

 

“Vodka Sprite? Really?” Keith thought there was something to be said for simplicity in a drink, but Lance obviously didn’t agree. 

 

“If you’re bored you’re allowed to leave.” Keith raised his eyebrows at Lance over his glass, and Lance glanced to the side, biting at his lip. He didn’t leave, though. 

 

“Karaoke on Tuesday’s.” He took a deep breath. Keith nodded and went back to wiping down glasses. Lance continued to suck at his straw, and didn’t say goodbye when Pidge came over and asked if he was ready to leave.

 

Lance didn’t start coming on Tuesday’s. In fact, Lance stopped coming to  _ ALTEA _ Nightclub all together. Keith couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow messed up, and with Lance gone all of his coworkers were feeling his absence. He wasn’t going to tell them that it  _ might  _ be his fault; a) Lance was a favorite among his coworkers and they would have his head, and b) Lance was still a customer, even if Keith  _ did  _ give him multiple free drinks. 

 

One week went by, then two, then three, then an entire month without any Lance. He wondered what exactly he was feeling whenever he glanced out to the dance floor and didn’t see Lance there, twirling away under the lights. Longing for something he never had, maybe? Nostalgia for something he did? For months Lance had been a constant, a familiar face in a crowd where, aside from his coworkers, Keith was surrounded by strangers. Suddenly, he was just  _ gone.  _ It floored Keith that Lance’s disappearance could have such an impact on him because he didn’t really know anything about him. With that thought in mind Keith began to try forgetting about him, because what else was he supposed to do? 

 

“Are you okay, Keith? You’ve been out of it all night.” Three months later and it was his birthday again. Keith had been  _ doing  _ fine, until he remembered exactly a year ago he’d met Lance. He still had the  _ Birthday Princess  _ crown that Coran had given him that night, and Keith knew it was kind of pathetic to mope over someone he hardly knew but he couldn’t help it. 

 

“I think I might need to find another job.” It was the only solution; to get away from the place that kept making him think about Lance. 

 

“Because of a boy?” Shiro’s eyebrows went up, looking serious even while he was scooping up some of the birthday cake that Allura had made earlier that day. 

 

“You’re _moving here_ because of Matt and Allura,” Keith defended, staring down at the Snapchat story playing on his phone without any real interest.

 

“You shouldn’t let someone you hardly know dictate your life. If you’re happy at ALTEA Nightclub then you should stay there.” Matt didn’t even look up from where he was cornrowing Allura’s hair, eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he pushed some of her bushy, silver afro out of the way. 

 

“I don’t know what I did. I always feel fake walking into work because everyone always brings him up.” Keith ran his hands over his face, rubbing at his temples. “You’re right, it’s not like I knew him that well. But it almost makes it worse because what if something I said set Lance off? And I didn’t even know it would set him off because I don’t know him?” 

 

Matt’s fingers paused momentarily, shaking one of his hands out for a moment before continuing to braid. Allura continued to sit, tablet in her lap and earbuds in. “Lance McClain?”  

 

“I don’t know, Matt.” Keith sighed. Matt pursed his lips, tying off Allura’s braid before reaching into his pocket and tossing his phone to Shiro.

 

“Pull up Instagram would you? He’s always in Katie’s photos.” He was still concentrating on Allura’s hair, using a comb to separate out another section, swiping his fingers through conditioner before beginning to braid again. Shiro was typing into Matt’s phone, scrolling and tapping for a bit before passing the phone to Keith. Keith took it and stared down, and sure enough it was Lance and his little lesbian friend from the club. He eagerly pressed on the tagged profile linked to the selfie of them, eyebrows drawing together as he viewed all of the pictures. It wasn’t any kind of architecture that Keith recognized - more colorful than what Keith was used to in the urban area he lived. 

 

“This is him,” Keith announced belatedly. Shiro glanced over his shoulder in interest, spoon in his mouth as he watched Keith scroll. 

 

“Oh no, he’s hot.” It was overall unhelpful, but Keith didn’t object, because Shiro was  _ right  _ after all. 

 

“He’s studying abroad with my sister in Quebec. He’ll be back in December.” Matt grunted when Allura tapped his knee and tugged her headphones out, pushing herself up to her feet and wandering into the kitchen.

 

And well… that was anticlimactic. Keith thought something was wrong or he’d messed up somehow, but Lance had probably just been busy, and then had legitimately left the country to study. He guessed that was good, because that meant that Lance might start coming to the club again once he gets back in the United States. Keith was a little unsure of how he was supposed to act normal when Lance came back, as if he hadn’t been perturbed for months since Lance had left. It would be kind of creepy if Keith expressed missing seeing him around. But, he didn’t even have to think about that, yet. He was getting ahead of himself. 

 

Matt had told him Lance would be back the week before Christmas, so naturally all Keith had done was stalk Lance’s Instagram  _ lionhearted93  _ and made sure not to touch the like button or double tap any of Lance’s pictures. He was leaning against the edge of the bar, on his break - the temperature had dropped so it was kind of a nuisance to be standing by the door shirtless, but it was better than the sweltering heat inside the club. He was scrolling through Lance’s recently posted photos - a lot of them were of Pidge, but there was one of Lance wrapped up from head to toe yet still licking an ice cream cone, cheeks and nose red and beanie falling over his eyes. Without thinking he liked it, continued scrolling, and then panicked and scrolled back up when he realized too late.

 

Right as he was pressing the button so that he could unlike it - did the notification still show up if someone unliked what they just liked? - he got a notification for one of his own pictures. 

 

Lance had liked one of his pictures. 

 

Another notification;  _ lionhearted93 started following you. _

 

Keith felt like his heart was in his throat. He closed the app and locked his phone, taking a deep breath and ignoring the inquisitive eyebrow that Rolo was raising at him. 

 

“Do you want a drink?” He slid behind the counter again. Rolo looked at his Apple Watch and then shrugged, although Keith had began to make him and himself a drink regardless, because he thinks he needs more than a little liquid courage, especially with the way his phone is buzzing in his pocket.

 

He didn’t dare look at his phone until the end of the night, when all of the club patrons were on their ways home and Keith had finished putting the remaining glasses in the washing machine. Coran waved goodnight to him as he locked up the doors, and Keith muttered his farewell as he began making his way to his car. Finally, he removed his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. All of the notifications were from Lance, who’d gone and seemingly liked every picture on his Instagram and had even messaged him; 

 

_ i still owe you karaoke!  _

 

Keith felt a smile tug at his lips, pressing the button to unlock his car and climbing in quickly to get out of the cold. He turned it on so he could defrost his windows, going to Lance’s profile and pressing  _ follow  _ first before going back to the message Lance had sent him. He typed three different replies, not feeling like any of them were good enough, before getting fed up. 

 

_ i’ll be waiting :)  _

 

Keith had never felt more lame, but if he thought about it anymore he might never reply, and so he left it at that. He started to like more of Lance’s pictures as he waited for his windows, and then made his way home. He crawled into bed, covers drawn up to his chin, and thought about Lance. 

 

Just because  _ ALTEA _ Nightclub didn't decorate for the holidays didn't mean that people didn't come dressed up to be festive. The week of Christmas Keith had seen more than a few scantily clad Santa’s and a fair share of drag queen Mrs. Clause. People were hyped up, the local university and community colleges finally on winter break and people getting their holiday vacation days in. Keith had never really celebrated Christmas, but after a drunk girl placed a pair of reindeer horns on his head it wasn't hard to understand why people talked about the Christmas Spirit, even if he thought it was pretty stupid, everyone’s enthusiasm infectious. The good mood permeated throughout the club, happy and sexually charged and drunk. 

 

Not to mention, Lance was there. Keith had been watching him through the reflective ceiling; he looked pale and sweaty, but happy twirling under the lights and jumping to the music. They’d hired some new go-go dancers for the holiday season, since a couple of people lived elsewhere and went home for their winter breaks, but Lance was quick to make friends with the new faces, whooping and slipping dollar bills into their underwear and laughing. 

 

So maybe it was less of the Christmas Spirit Keith was feeling and more like he was just glad Lance was here, in his general vicinity, even if he hadn't come to say hello yet. The bar was busy anyways, so Keith didn't have much time to think about why Lance had yet to come over to say anything to him when they'd spent their Instagram flirtationship sending each other memes. But maybe that was the issue; maybe they'd sent so many memes that they no longer knew how to hold actual conversation. 

 

Keith was just about to take his break when Lance emerged from the dance floor, wiping the sweat from his brow with the green and blue flannel hanging off his elbows, slim muscles sheening. He turned away from whoever he was talking to - a boy with dark skin and a wide nose, a girl with slick hair hanging off of his buff arm - to glance at the bar, and when he finally found Keith his entire face lit up like the Christmas Light Expo downtown. Keith felt like Lance might deliberately be driving him crazy, muscle shirt loose over his shoulders and flannel hanging off his arms as he practically shoved his way through people to get to Keith. 

 

“Mullet!” He leaned over the bar excitedly, reaching up to fondle one of the reindeer horns on Keith’s head. Keith swatted Lance’s hand away half-heartedly, trying not to act phased when Lance’s palm planted itself on the heated skin of his bare chest. The two people Lance had been talking to previously wandered up to the bar, then. 

 

“Can I get you guys any drinks before I go on my break?” Keith asked, and despite the butterflies going crazy in his stomach he placed his hand over Lance’s, swallowing thickly when Lance’s fingernails dug gently into his chest. 

 

“Please! This is Hunk and Shay, by the way.” Lance climbed up onto one of the barstools, sitting on his knees and only removing his hand from Keith when he turned away to grab some glasses. 

 

“Keith.” After setting the glasses down he shook the tall, buff man’s hand - a warm but firm handshake - and then the girls - also warm and firm. “What would you guys like?” Even though Lance wasn’t touching him anymore he was still in Keith’s space, elbows on the bar and twisting and turning on the barstool like a kid. 

 

“I’ll have a Tokyo Tea, please.” Something about the way Shay spoke made Keith rush to get it made - not because she was aggressive but because her voice was sweet as candy. 

 

“What about you, big guy?” Keith questioned while he tipped the bottles over into Shay’s glass, topping it off with a lemon and a cherry before sliding it over to her, watching for her reaction (a pleased hum) before giving Hunk his attention. 

 

“Just a Stella is fine.” 

 

“Want a glass?” 

 

“No, just the bottle is fine.” Hunk smiled at him and Keith smiled back, turning to grab a Stella Artois out of the refrigerator and popping it open before handing it over. Hunk passed over a twenty dollar bill, whispering something in Lance’s ear before linking his arm with Shay’s and leading her off upstairs. 

 

“Nice to meet you!” Shay called over her shoulder, straw still in her mouth before she finally fell in stride with Hunk, leaving Lance and Keith alone. Keith wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, shifting nervously under Lance’s curious gaze. 

 

“You wanted a drink?” Keith had to say  _ something _ , even if it were something as plain as that. Lance glanced up at the specialty drinks menu nailed up on the bar in thought, and then shook his head. 

 

“Can I just have water?” If Lance wanted to kill Keith then fluttering his eyelashes the way he was was probably the fastest route. Keith shoveled ice into the glass and poured water from the tap, sticking a straw into the glass before wandering out from behind the bar, finally on his break. Lance guzzled down the water and then grabbed Keith’s hand, leaving the glass behind as he tugged Keith out onto the dance floor. “I still haven't gotten to see you dance.” Lance leaned in close so that Keith could hear him over the music. 

 

Keith was way too sober to dance without inhibition; then again, he didn’t exactly want to be drunk for this moment either, not when Lance immediately responded to Keith’s hands on his hips, swaying his hips to some remix of  _ All In My Head  _ by Fifth Harmony, a song Keith knew all too well because of its popularity. And Lance was looking at him with nothing but adoration too.  _ Fuck…  _ Keith slipped a hand into Lance’s back pocket to tug him closer, slotting their legs together so they could grind into each other’s hips. Lance placed his forehead against Keith’s, lipsyncing the words as he hooked an arm around Keith’s neck, but after about a minute he just hung off of Keith, not even dancing anymore until the song changed. 

 

“I love this song!” Lance gasped before Keith could even register what the DJ was throwing into the mix, and Lance pulled away from him, hands dragging down his bare chest to hook into his tight skinny jeans.  _ “Lightning strikes every time she moves, and everybody’s watching her… but she’s looking at you~”  _ Lance grinned at him, tapping his nose before twirling under the lights, coming back to cling onto Keith again and  _ yeah,  _ he’s definitely drunk, Keith stumbled with his weight. 

 

“Maybe we should get you some more water.” Keith peeled Lance off of him and dragged him back to the bar, Lance walking after him in a daze. 

 

“We should have a sleepover!” Lance plopped onto the bar stool that Keith set him on, eyes following him as he walked back behind the bar to fill up a glass for him and slide it over. Lance began to guzzle it, and Keith pulled it back from him before he drank it all too fast. Lance pouted at him, but after a few seconds a smile started to tug at the corners of his lips. 

 

“You’re too drunk for that,” Keith laughed, and Lance rolled his eyes. 

 

“I’m going to text Hunk and say I’m going home with you.” He tugged his cell phone out of his pocket, typing it in before Keith could even object to the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Lance to spend the night, he  _ did _ , but he’d like to do it when Lance wasn’t drunk, and maybe after dinner or something. They’d never even been on a  _ date.  _ Neither of them had even asked. “Is that okay?” Lance leaned on his elbows, batting his eyelashes at Keith as if it was going to  _ work.  _

 

“Go ahead, I’ll cover for you.” Rolo’s voice make Keith jump out of his skin, and he turned to look at Rolo with his eyebrows raised. “He’s at the point where I would kick him out, anyways.” When Keith turned to look back at Lance he was half-asleep, and Keith sighed in mild annoyance. The first night he was going to get to spend with Lance and Lance was going to be  _ drunk  _ for all of it. 

 

“Alright.” Keith pulled the reindeer horns off of his head. “Make sure he’s alright while I get my coat.” Rolo saluted him and Keith wound his way through the crowd until he got to the Employees Only door, walking over to his locker and getting his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, tugging his flannel on and his coat over before grabbing his keys. When he got back Lance was slowly sipping the water with Rolo hovering over him like a mom hovering over their kid, and Keith placed the horns on Rolo’s head as he nudged Lance. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go.” Lance slid off the bench, and Keith reached over the bar for a bottle of water before wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist. “Thanks, Rolo. See you Friday.” 

 

Rolo waved him off, and Keith pushed his way through the crowd with Lance in tow. It was freezing outside, but Lance didn’t seem to notice, happily plastered to Keith’s side as he glanced down at his phone awaiting Hunk’s reply. 

 

“I can’t wait to tell you about Quebec, Keith. It was so beautiful.” Lance was rambling, his weight on Keith sending them on a crooked pathway. Keith hummed, content to just listen to him talk. “It was fun, but I missed it here, you know? I thought about you sometimes. Like, how you were doing and what you were up to.” 

 

And well, if Lance was going to say anything reassuring to Keith it was definitely that. “I thought about you, too.” Would Lance even remember Keith telling him that? Keith didn’t think so, as Lance tripped over his feet and desperately clung to Keith’s side in fear of falling. Keith unlocked the door to his car and helped Lance inside, pursing his lips as he shut the door and walked around to the other side. Lance was calling out to him as he walked around, and didn’t shut up until Keith was in the car with him. 

 

“You thought about me?” Maybe Lance would surprise him and remember, if he’d gotten back on topic after almost tripping to his death. Keith flushed, but nodded his head. 

 

“Yeah. A lot,” he sighed. Lance leaned his head back on the headrest, watching Keith with  _ fondfondfond _ written all over his face as Keith focused on backing out of the parking space and turning out onto the street. 

 

“I really like you, Keith.” Keith dreaded tomorrow, when he would probably have to recount all of this to Lance, but for now he was sort of basking in the fact that Lance was so enamored with him. He’ll save the embarrassment for when he actually needed to feel it. 

 

“I really like you, too.” Never mind the fact that he hardly knew Lance, outside of casual meme conversations and club atmosphere, but that’s what dates were for… right? Right. And hopefully they would click as well in person as they did over  _ Instagram _ messaging. He’d have to get Lance’s number tomorrow so that they could stop with the dumb app messaging. It was always running his phone battery dry. 

 

Getting Lance up the stairs of his apartment building was a struggle but the elevator had been “in service” since Keith moved in two years ago so there was no helping it. Keith helped him shuffle down the hallway towards his room, but then Lance was diverting his attention. “Wait, I need to go pee.” Keith sighed and turned him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he wandered through his apartment with nervous butterflies in his stomach. Lance was in his apartment. Lance was spending the night; the same Lance he’d been admiring from afar for over a year now. 

 

_ God, I feel like a creep.  _ He pushed a hand through his hair, trying to wipe the distress from his face when Lance emerged from the bathroom and glanced around for him. When their eyes met a slow smile formed on Lance’s lips, and he swayed (or perhaps wobbled) his way over to Keith, gripping onto the lapels of his coat to tug Keith closer to him. Keith’s eyes narrowed in on where Lance’s flannel was falling off of his shoulders to expose his skin, more than a little transfixed as Lance struggled to get Keith’s coat off. “What are you doing?” He laughed as Lance tossed his coat aside, following after him when Lance grabbed his hands and dragged him back towards his bedroom. 

 

“Well, you didn’t bring me here for nothing did you?” 

 

“You  _ asked  _ to come over.” 

 

Lance shrugged, shutting the door behind them as if Keith didn’t live by himself, and walked backwards until he was seated on the bed, beckoning Keith over. 

 

For what it was worth, Keith thought about it for .5 seconds before shrugging his flannel off and tossing it into the laundry bin. “Time to go to bed.” 

 

Lance looked scandalized, making grabby-hands at Keith as he slipped out of his skinny jeans and kicked them off his feet. “I’m not  _ that  _ drunk anymore,” he complained. Still, Keith shook his head. 

 

“Still drunk, though.” Lance huffed, obviously annoyed. “Lay down, I’ll get you water.” 

 

When Keith came back from the kitchen Lance was already asleep, passed out with his shoes still on and shirt riding up his stomach. Keith sighed, setting the water on the bedside table before climbing into bed, staring at Lance until he fell asleep. 

 

Keith woke up first; Lance still looked dead to the world, knocked out with his shirt twisted around his torso and long legs sprawled out over the duvet cover. Keith watched him for a good five minutes before forcing himself out of bed and into the shower, getting dressed and going into the kitchen to start making breakfast - Lance hadn’t stirred even though Keith wasn’t being particularly quiet, he must’ve been having a nice dream. Keith wondered what he should say when Lance got up. Did it even matter? Probably. He  _ did  _ bring Lance back to his apartment, even if they hadn’t actually done anything. Keith worried his bottom lip as he scrambled the eggs and poured them into the pan, lost in thought as he rummaged through the refrigerator. 

 

Breakfast was almost done by the time Lance came shuffling out of Keith’s bedroom, looking hungover and groggy as he blinked tiredly and glanced around Keith’s apartment in confusion. 

 

“G’morning…” Lance looked sheepish despite his exhaustion, and Keith smiled at him over his shoulder. 

 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he teased. Lance grimaced, taking a seat at the barstool set for the island and watching Keith as he flipped a piece of french toast. “Feeling okay enough to eat?” 

 

“Hell yeah, I’m starving.” Lance bemoaned, and Keith piled the scrambled eggs, french toast, and bacon onto a plate before setting it in front of Lance with a fork. “Thanks.” Lance reached for the syrup when Keith set it on the counter, and Keith went back to finishing up the rest of the food; he’d made enough for both of them and then some, just because he didn’t know how much Lance usually ate. 

 

Keith wondered if it was normal for things to be this quiet, but when he glanced back at Lance again he saw the boys plate was almost empty and his cheeks were full which… would explain why it was so quiet. “Keith, buddy. You have no idea how good this is.” Lance looked less pale already, and Keith piled more food onto his plate. Lance immediately dug in. “Like, I love my mom’s cooking and all. I really do. But you’ve got the magic touch.” 

 

And well, if Keith hadn’t learned how to cook he wouldn’t have been eating, probably, but he didn’t say it. “Thanks.” He started to dig into his own plate, trying not to stare at Lance as he ate. “Um-”

 

Lance looked up from his fork. 

 

“Sorry. That I brought you here. This is probably really weird.” Keith just felt  _ awkward.  _ This wasn’t his niche. He wasn’t used to talking to Lance in an environment outside of a screen, outside of his workplace. Lance hummed in thought as he chewed. 

 

“It is a little weird, but I don’t mind. Saves us the awkward tension on our first date, right?” 

 

They both stared at each other for a painfully long moment, and then both glanced away, Lance sputtering and Keith blushing. When Keith got his breath back; “Karaoke, right?” 

 

Lance scratched at the back of his head, shoulders shrugging up to his ears as he nodded. “Yeah… yeah I’d like that,” and then added after a moment; “As long as you don’t mind being blown out of the water.” He looked back at Keith, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Keith rolled his eyes, and  _ honestly  _ why did he like this guy? 

 

But one glance into his blue eyes and shiny smile and Keith remembered why he’d been a goner the moment they’d met. 

 

“Bring it on.”

**Author's Note:**

> come hang w/ me on tumblr @dwreed !


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